The Serpent King's Story
by specs 0-0
Summary: Draco Malfoy had everything in life. Money, influence, power. But to achieve greatness, Draco would have to fight to the death, watch his kingdom crumble to dust, and become king of the serpents. This is the story of the fall and the rise of Draco Malfoy.


Deep in the bowels of Malfoy Manor, a secretive meeting was occurring between the darkest wizard of all time, and his closest followers. At his right hand sat Lucius Malfoy, at his left, Bellatrix Black, soon to be Lestrange. The two cousins, related through marriage, wore smug looks of satisfaction that somehow, suited their figures.

It was no surprise that they were overly confident. Any one of the Death Eaters surrounding them would have gladly traded in a limb or two, to have the positions that they did. They were the Dark Lord's closest followers, even within his Inner Circle. With the war waxing and waning in their favour, it was a coveted position indeed.

"My Lord, I do not see why it is necessary to infiltrate Hogwarts."

The brute known as Yaxley was often a source of great amusement at these gatherings. Many a Death Eater had speculated that he was only kept around to be a scapegoat of sorts; he brought forth no new information, nor did he have anything worthwhile to say. In fact, he had only joined the Death Eaters by the skin of his teeth; though an influential family name, and a fortune of Galleons did offer some amount of compensation.

"To permeate Hogwarts, under Albus Dumbledore's nose, and break down the forces that surround the castle, would be one of the Dark Lord's greatest achievements."

Surprisingly, it was the silky voice of Severus Snape that answered Yaxley's obtrusive question. Lucius looked on to the younger man, approval in his steely grey eyes. Despite the lanky, greasy appearance, Severus was a highly educated man, intelligent and cunning. It gave Lucius pleasure to publically acknowledge that he had been the first to see past Snape's disgusting locks, and surmise what an ally he would become.

"Severus is right. Hogwarts is a key. It is greatly considered to be a cornerstone of the Wizarding World. Should it fall, then the war will all but end." For the first time that evening, Lord Voldemort spoke, his words coming out in a hiss resembling that of a snake.

Lucius opened his mouth to interject his opinion, which would command the attention of everyone seated at the table. However, his unspoken words were halted in his throat, as the door was thrown open, and his House-Elf stood at the door way, quivering with unparalleled fear.

Almost instantly, every wand at the table was drawn and pointed at the infernal creature, aside from Lord Voldemort, and Severus Snape.

Lucius felt the blood flow to his pale cheeks. How dare that insolent creature simply barge in on the most private of meetings? How dare it insult him, embarrass him, in front of some of the most influential men and women of their world? Indeed, there were already several sniggers being traded around the table, all at his expense. He flushed an ugly colour, and glared at his Elf.

"How dare you enter this room?" Lucius roared at the thing, channeling all of his embarrassment and anger towards the serving creature. He could see the look of pure delight on his sister in law's face, and he felt his ire grow. "What business do you have here?"

To the elf's credit, it did not completely wither underneath its master's glare. In fact, it seemed quite courageous, aside from the incessant quivering. The animalistic creature drew itself up to its full height, a mere three feet, and began to speak, as if it actually had a place in society, above wiping its master's boots.

"Begging your pardon Master Malfoy, but Mistress Narcissa has gone into labour. She sent me to fetch you."

At once, Lucius felt his anger ebb away, only to be replaced by several other unknown feelings, that he could not truly identify. Many of these should not even be in his vocabulary, let alone his heart, but he could not help but feel a mixture of pride, fear, and eager anticipation.

However, the drawback to feeling these emotions, was that the Dark Lord, in such close proximity, could also feel them. As if reading Lucius' mind-which he probably was-a mirthless smile stretched across his waxy face, looking quite disproportional.

It was ironic, really. Lord Voldemort had been quite a handsome man. The regal features could still be identified on his face, but they were long since blurred, ruined by the deeds the man-or monster-had committed. However, at times, he could still be considered handsome; yet when he was angry or pleased were not such examples. Whenever the Dark Lord seemed to be feeling a particularly strong emotion, such as triumph, or rage, was when he appeared the ugliest. And at this moment, Lucius felt his heart sink; the Dark Lord's face looked as hideous as his mind surely was.

"_Crucio."_

Lord Voldemort watched with lazy amusement as Lucius Malfoy's House Elf writhed in agony upon the stone floor. Many of the other Death Eaters also joined in with raucous laughter, none as obscene as Bellatrix's. Many were laughing at the expense of Lucius, as well as the joy of seeing a lesser being tortured by their Master.

"Well, now that the unnecessary interruption has been taken care of, we must proceed with business."

The Dark Lord's voice was smooth, but held an underlying current of danger, that was always present when he was anywhere near vicinity. Yet for some reason, Lucius thought to question his Master, standing up, and daring to protest against him.

"But My Lord-"

"Surely, Lucius, you have nothing better to be doing, at this hour." The Dark Lord turned his fiery gaze on Lucius, and the flaxen haired Malfoy swallowed heavily. "Nothing could be more important than helping your fellow purebloods win the war against the muggle filth. Surely you can't be questioning your Master?"

Lucius knew that there was only one right answer, and he was able to say it with no regret or guilt, though he was sure he would feel some later.

"Of course not My Lord. I apologize."

A sinister smirk rested on Lord Voldemort's face, as he continued to discuss how to attack Hogwarts. Lucius spared his screaming servant one glance, knowing that above him, similar screams of a different sort were being emitted from his wife, who was at long last, bearing him an heir.

* * *

><p>After eight long hours of labour, Narcissa Malfoy glanced down at her newborn son with pride, and the joy, befitting of the new mother. She knew that she had it easy, in comparison to other childbirths, however, she could not help but lament on just how hard her own had been.<p>

In her eyes, the newborn babe was absolutely perfect; he had no flaws. His blonde hair was representative of both his mother and father; though his eyes were his father's only. The child was small and weak, but it was only to be expected, considering the circumstances that surrounded his conception.

Narcissa found herself reaching across her bed, to his cradle, and drawing her finger lightly across his forehead, marveling at how smooth his skin was. She knew many a witch who would trade in half of their inherited fortunes, to have skin as smooth as a baby's.

It amazed her really; so much effort had gone into creating and bearing this tiny little being. If an uninterested, unbiased party took a look at him, they might think that he was hardly worth the trouble. But Narcissa Malfoy knew already that he would be worth her own life, and the lives of thousands of others. Despite her alliances she was not a cold blooded killer, yet she knew right now, that she would murder countless of others for her son.

The door to her chambers opened, and she quickly retracted her finger, though she did not move her gaze away from her son. She did not yet know what her husband would dictate about her son. She hoped to Merlin that he would not have the same rules as Thaddeus Bulstrode, who forbade his wife from creating any personal attachment to her daughter. Narcissa knew that she lived under her husband's law, but she had been a Black before a Malfoy, and she still had the same fire that seemed to be permanently ignited in Bellatrix's eyes. Even Andromeda had that fire, when she stubbornly told her parents she was carrying a Muggle's baby.

"Cissa."

Narcissa had to hold back a derisive snort. For some reason, her husband was addle brained enough to think that it was attractive to bestow a pet name onto her. She supposed he assumed that all witches needed coddling, but she was no such witch. She knew that their marriage would be, by and large, a loveless match. There was a slim opportunity for fondness to grow between them, she did still remember her childhood crush on his blonde hair that rivaled her own, but at the moment, it was completely absent in their marriage.

"You were not here for the birth of your son."

Her voice was cold and indifferent; as if she did not care one way or another, simply stating the facts. Deep down, only in the most private of her own thoughts, would she admit that she did, in fact, care. If this revelation were ever brought to the surface, Narcissa would be quick to deny such claims, and say that she only felt resentment; Lucius had been so insistent on producing an heir, yet he had not been there for the unpleasant part of the affair.

"It is a boy?"

Narcissa tore her eyes away from their son, staring at Lucius in shock. He had not yet checked the gender of their child? She had assumed that would be her husband's first task of business, but it appeared that he had first appraised her. He even seemed genuinely apologetic to have missed their boy's birth, though that might have been a ruse. It appeared that Narcissa had underestimated her husband.

"Yes, he is a boy. He will grow up to be a fine man someday, of that, I am sure."

Lucius nodded, his eyes not leaving the tiny figure of his son.

"There is no doubt. We will have to make a good match. I can think of only a few eligible women that would meet the requirements he will need."

All tiny hopes of Lucius actually caring for their son as a person were quickly dashed. Only a few hours old, and their son's life was already going to be promised away to another. Narcissa knew it would be much easier for him, being a boy, but she did not delude herself into thinking it would be an easy life. She had entertained such naïve thoughts as a child, but had been forced to watch her cousins, Sirius and Regulus live underneath such pressure. Sirius had rebelled, and been disowned. Regulus had conformed, and been killed.

"He is but two hours old, and you're already considering marriage matches for him?" Narcissa accused hotly, her tone harsh, reflecting her own bitterness towards her early betrothal. However, the look Lucius gave her made her feel insecure, like every bit the young silly girl she still was.

"It is our responsibility. He must be arranged to the right kind of girl. A beautiful, wealthy pureblood, with alliances that will benefit the family. That kind of girl does not come at a low price, and there will be many other bidders vying for her attention."

"That kind of girl does not come at a low price because they are near impossible to find." Narcissa said angrily. "I should know. And do not speak about such girls as if they are simply trinkets you are bidding for at an auction."

An angry look passed over Lucius' face. He was not used to being commanded what to do. He was a Malfoy after all, and he was usually the one doing the ordering about. However, over the past nine years, he had grown rather fond of his wife; his initial frustration at her failure to produce an heir had passed. One might even dare say he had begun to have feelings for her. She was certainly beautiful enough to spark lust, but Lucius had come to find that her fierce, independent personality had also awoken something deep inside.

Smirking down at the sweaty blonde woman, lying on her large bed, he spoke in a velvet smooth voice, "Maybe if you feel so strongly about these girls, you should take up the cause, and try to do something for them."

Narrowing her cold blue eyes at Lucius, Narcissa raised her chin, and spoke in a haughty voice. "Their plight irks me, but I do not care for them. I care only for our son."

The heartless tone in which she spoke sent an excited shiver down Lucius' spine. Yes, maybe this marriage would produce some love after all. He certainly had made a good decision, in choosing Narcissa, instead of the older-and crazier-Bellatrix.

"We must give him a name."

Narcissa did not bother commenting on her husband's redundant statement; it was far too easy to mock. Despite her days as a vain, vapid girl, she did like testing her intelligence, and responding to the oblivious observance of her husband would be beneath her.

"I will give him a name."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, finding it amusing that his wife was living under the illusion that she would have any say with what their son would be called. Stirring feelings or not, he was still the Master of the Malfoy household, and therefore it was his right to name his heir.

"I'm afraid that the right does not belong to you my dear. It is I who will be giving him his name, and he will be called Abraxas, after my father."

Narcissa sat straight up in the bed, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulders, and glaring fiercely at Lucius. Despite the sheen of sweat that still coated her skin, the drawn look about her face, and the exhaustion in her eyes, she was quite a frightful sight, looking for all the world as if she were prepared to duel her husband right then and there.

"No, Lucius Malfoy, the right to name him does _not_ belong to you. It belongs to me. It was I who gave up my education to marry you and give you an heir. It was I who sacrificed a career, in the hopes that I would have a child to raise. It was I who sought out a sorcerer to bring about this boy's birth. It was I who carried him for seven and a half months, and it was I who endured his birth, for which you were not even present. The honour of naming our son belongs to me, and to me alone."

Lucius was stunned by his wife's outburst, but his face gave away nothing. He could see how the little fit of rage had already tired out Narcissa, as she was panting slightly, gripping tightly onto the bed sheets. And for some reason, she had never looked more beautiful to him. Lucius knew if he refused to concede on this point, he would lose any chance of his wife returning any affection, so despite the disappointment, and the slight sting of embarrassment, Lucius bowed his head in defeat to his wife.

"Very well. The honour is indeed yours. What do you intend to name our child?"

For a brief moment, Narcissa looked surprised; evidently she had not expected Lucius to give in, or at least, not quite so hastily as he had. She couldn't help but be slightly suspicious, wondering why her husband had so easily agreed, with such little argument. However, she decided to pursue the subject another day.

"I was not named after a constellation despite my family's tradition, but my son will be. He has been born a Malfoy, but his name will declare to the world that he is also a Black."

Narcissa was very proud of her family. She had been born into one of the oldest, and most influential pureblood families of the Wizarding World. In fact, the Blacks might be even older than the Malfoys. And if one were to ignore the few instances of inbreeding that occurred within both families, than Narcissa had come from, and married into some of the purest blood. Andromeda, of course, was widely ignored by all respectable families. Everyone feared the wrath of the Blacks far too much to gossip about their muggle loving daughter.

Lucius nodded his head. "Very well. I will need to know his name soon, to fill out the appropriate forms." He glanced at his richly adorned Wizard's Watch, and then back down at his wife. "It is late. The both of us should be resting."

Narcissa nodded, suddenly acutely aware of the fatigue that seemed to stretch from all of her bones, to her very heart. She had only had a few brief moments of sleep, after giving birth to her son, before the fascination with the tiny creature she had borne had driven her to wake and watch him.

"Very well."

Lucius stood, and straightened out his robes, before approaching Narcissa. Shockingly, he bent down, and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, as gentle as a whisper.

"Sleep well my wife. Sleep well my son."

With those parting words, Lucius swept off towards his chambers, with the dramatic flair that never seemed to abandon him. Narcissa looked after him with surprise, and something akin to affection. She knew that as far as marriage matches went, hers could have been worse. And now that her son was here, everything seemed infinitely better.

Turning to her son, she pressed a kiss to her fingertips, and gently brushed them against his soft skin.

"Sleep well my beautiful son. Before you know it, you'll wake up a man. Enjoy your life now, Draco Lucius Malfoy. I swear to you, we will treat you like the prince you are. But one day, you'll find that your kingdom is as deadly as the serpent's pit.

"Sleep my little snake charmer."


End file.
